Facing My Regrets

These past months our family has been bereaved by death. First it was my uncle, then my father, and just last month, my other uncle. At each loss, a harrowing swarm of regrets would come over me.

I regret every occasion that I denied my time or withheld my affection. The guilt is like a melancholy record that keeps playing over and over in my mind. Why had I not shown the love that had actually been here deep in my heart and mind always?

It’s quite easy to do little nice things. It would not take much of time to visit a dear elder. Nor would it cost so much to give a small gift, or even send a card, as a token of affection. But it takes earnest intention. 

I now realize there were many things which might have given comfort and joy, which I overlooked. There always seemed to be “some other time” for them. Then, the visits I postponed could no longer be made, the gifts I delayed giving could no longer be given. All because the dear ones I intended them for are there no more.

Thoughts like these add up to the pile of our emotional burdens, which we all carry around day to day. They make our life something to be endured. At times, we just get so exhausted; we begin to see the world as an ugly, hateful place. And when we try to trace the root of the ill feeling, we simply go in circles within ourselves.

Regret is quite a common emotion. Nearly everyone would admit being sorry for something – big or small – in his past or present life. If they’re so common, could there be a useful purpose for regrets?

Some people handle their regrets much better than do others. There are those who are debilitated by their regrets. But others, without dismissing their regrets, learn to live with them. In fact, many have become better persons after feeling great remorse over some previous reckless, thoughtless acts.

For my own comfort, I imagine a distinction between vain regret and useful regret. To be eternally sorry for what is irreversible is vain regret. Although poets tend to make it look romantic for a lover to be eternally sighing for rejected love, to brood over what cannot be changed is as tiresome as it is fruitless.

A politician friend of mine continually harps on his regret that he did not run for mayor in his northern Cebu town many years ago. At that time there was an unexpected landslide for his party and he certainly would have won. But he did not run then, and now the local political climate has so changed that his opportunity to become mayor seems to have completely faded out. 

And there’s also this woman, a former client in a bungled film-production venture, who never fails to bring up the dead project in her conversations. Many years ago, she wanted so much to act in a movie. Together with some moneyed friends, they put up a movie company and called me in to do their first film.

I cautioned them on a lot issues, among which was the quality of talent that we had to bring to the screen. I had an inkling that the woman thought money was all that was required. And she couldn’t be more wrong.

We needed a big name to entice people to watch our movie. This woman had to be in the lead role, and she was a virtual nobody. But perhaps we could make up for her lack in public image by harnessing her acting skills.

She swore to me she would cooperate, that she would do anything to learn and to excel in the acting art. That was good. But, then, that was all she ever did—promise. Once the production process started, she was immediately giving me headaches.

That movie project never really took off. I quitted after just two shooting days. I had other, better use for my time and effort.

“I should have nurtured my passion for acting,” the woman would now tell friends. “If I had, I would be an established movie actress by now.” What she could regret to more avail is the fact that she is such a spoiled brat with no clear direction in life. Anyone would be damned to join her in her trip to nowhere.

This would-be movie star and my politician friend may have unwittingly allowed themselves to be stuck in their own fantasies. They may be holding on to prospects that have long ceased to be. And the opportunities that now exist only in their hopes and dreams can be like a gallstone, causing their lives constant irritation.   

There is, however, a useful way of dealing with regrets. Men and women of extraordinary accomplishment have learned to free themselves from the shackles of regret and, instead, use their wrong choices and misdeeds to propel them to excellence. They have learned, as Eleanor Roosevelt once said, never “to clutter up their minds with might-have-beens.”

An awareness of one’s mistakes can, indeed, help to redirect conduct and patterns of living. There’s no use regretting wasted time past, which is irrevocable. But the realization can prompt us to start planning for a better use of our time, in the present and in the future.

I found out for myself that it is necessary to turn my back on some regrets, for good. The things I failed to do for my father and uncles while they were still alive will now never be done. My chance to do those things for them is forever gone.

But I still have loved ones – a parent, aunts and uncles, siblings, nephews and nieces – who are there, with whom I can apply the lessons I’ve learned from past mistakes. I shall do much better now that I have an idea of what to avoid or not do again. All those mistakes and blunders I had made have drawn for me a path to follow.

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